


Good different, or bad different?

by MotherRameses



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Boba is so tired, F/F, Mandalorians are a fun bunch, Slave I, discussion of prosthetics, let him sleep, post episode 16, sexy murder ladies kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:15:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28236045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherRameses/pseuds/MotherRameses
Summary: Koska cocked her head as she studied the assassin, lips curling into a smirk and debating if the spat would be worth it. While it would be fun to fight the older woman bare fisted and unarmored, she decided against it. Fennec had shared her drink, after all, and besides that, the job was done. The little green baby had a new home, Gideon was unconscious in the hold, and they had the Darksaber. No sense in spoiling the mood.
Relationships: Koska Reeves/Fennec Shand
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Good different, or bad different?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [draculard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/gifts).



> I love these two and want them to kill me pls thx
> 
> probably more explicit stuff coming in the future when I have spoons
> 
> christ im gay

“Not joining the party?”

Koska rolled her eyes as she flopped onto the bench opposite Fennec, brushing her still-damp hair from her forehead and sprawling across the thin padding. While the passenger compartment was sparse, at least _Slave I_ had a full refresher suite, and the actual water shower had been nice. “I leave the politics to Bo,” she said with a lazy grin, then nodded to the effervescent blue beverage Fennec was cradling. “Care to share?”

Fennec reached under her own bench and tossed a half-full decanter to Koska. “You can finish it; it doesn’t take much to get me into a celebratory mood anymore,” Fennec said, tapping her cybernetic stomach. “You really aren’t going to sit in on their negotiations?” 

Koska took a long draught from the bottle then shook her head. “Dune’s there to make sure Bo doesn’t kill him, and I’m sure Sidekick can put the ship on autopilot long enough to break up a fight if he needs to.”

Fennec’s eyes flashed. “ _Boba_ ,” she said warningly, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. She had taken down her braids and stored her armor for the night, feet bare against the durasteel deck, but she cut an imposing figure nonetheless.

Koska cocked her head as she studied the assassin, lips curling into a smirk and debating if the spat would be worth it. While it would be fun to fight the older woman bare fisted and unarmored, she decided against it. Fennec had shared her drink, after all, and besides that, the job was done. The little green baby had a new home, Gideon was unconscious in the hold, and they had the Darksaber. No sense in spoiling the mood. 

“Like I said. Cockpit’s a little cramped anyways; I like more room when I fight. I’m sure you feel the same,” Koska said, steering the conversation away from the clone and taking another drink.

Fennec acknowledged the redirect with a small nod, and tipped her glass to Koska. “Quicker and cleaner to finish someone off with a shot from a klick away.” She sipped her drink thoughtfully. “As long as they deserve it.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Koska agreed. She reached up to fiddle with the sealing strip of her undersuit, peeling the neck open to her collar bone. The design of _Slave I_ meant the whole damn ship ran hot, thanks to the lack of insulation around the gyros, and she peeled open the seams on her forearms for good measure.

“And here I thought Mandalorians didn’t show skin,” Fennec said with a roguish wink, relaxing against her bench again.

Koska snorted, not missing the way the other woman's eyes lingered on her body as she further sprawled on her own bench. _Interesting._ “D'jarin isn’t the best metric to use. We aren’t all prudes like him.”

“Never said you were,” Fennec replied smoothly. She took another sip of her drink, then let loose a snort of her own. “You think he keeps the bucket _all the time_?” She asked slyly, and Koska didn’t miss the implication.

“Stars, I hope not,” Koska laughed, shaking her head. “It can definitely get it the way.”

Fennec arched a brow, lip twitching. “Oh?”

Koska rolled her eyes again. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had a quickie in the field?”

“Maybe, but my headgear is a bit different from yours. I like to be able to see someone’s eyes,” she purred, before frowning a bit. “Doesn’t your set-up have a codpiece?”

“It comes off pretty easy,” Koska said, thinking back to the few flings she’d had in the past. _Easy enough when the right person knows how it works._ “And our undersuits have an opening so we can relieve ourselves without taking the whole thing off.”

“Makes sense,” Fennec said. “Think I’ll stick to pants, though.”

“Do you even… Need the ‘fresher anymore?” Koska asked, gesturing to Fennec’s cybernetics. She winced the moment the words left her mouth, realizing how rude that was. “You don’t have to tell me if--”

Fennec laughed. “It’s fine; and yes, everything runs normally. Here, take a look.” She set her drink down on the deck and patted open space on the bench next to her before slipping open the front of her tunic. 

“ _Woah_ ,” Koska breathed, sitting up quickly and staring openly as Fennec peeled open the leatheris flap on her stomach. The metal in her body glinted in the low light, and she could see different mechanisms churning and whirring away as she approached and knelt in front of the assassin.

“It takes a special key to open up the top part,” Fennec said, gesturing to the section of leatheris and plastoid just under her sheared-off athletic top. Kneeling on the deck as she was, Koska could see where synthskin gave way to real skin just under the top.

“Scarring isn’t too bad; for a backwater, the medics of Tatooine know what they’re doing,” Fennec said lightly, and Koska’s breath caught a bit as Fennec tugged the bottom of her top up, rucking it up under her breasts and baring her sternum. Tell-tale blaster-burn scars spidered their way across her lower chest, light pink against her tan skin, but they looked well-healed and clean. “The synthskin’s good quality too. Almost have full sensation on it.”

Koska reached out tentatively. “May I?” She asked quietly, glancing up to meet Fennec’s eyes.

“Sure,” she said easily. “Let me know how it feels. No one else but me has touched it since they slapped it on.”

Koska nodded, worrying her lower lip with her teeth as she reached forward, then to the side, placing her hand gently on Fennec’s ribs where the synthskin met her flesh. Fennec inhaled sharply as she did so, and Koska looked up to her again. 

“Okay?” She asked, and Fennec nodded, eyes closed.

“Yeah,” she breathed, exhaling slowly. “Just… different than I was expecting.”

Koska nodded again, slowly running her thumb up and down across the join between synth and natural skin. The synthskin was cooler to the touch than her natural skin, and Fennec’s breath caught every time her thumb graced the seam. 

“Good different, or bad different?” Koska asked, still watching Fennec’s expression.

Fennec’s brow furrowed for a moment, then relaxed as she opened her eyes to stare down at Koska. “Good, in this case,” she said with a small smile. She leaned slightly into Koska’s touch. “Your hands are warm. Feels nice.”

Koska returned the smile, then brought her other hand to Fennec’s ribs, mirroring her earlier touch. Fennec closed her eyes again as Koska held her gently, rubbing small circles with her thumbs. “Feels different than what I was expecting,” Koska said, looking back down to Fennec’s bared sternum. The synthskin had a bit higher resistance than the natural flesh adjacent to it, and she found herself slightly mesmerized as her thumbs tugged along Fennec’s warm brown skin, wrinkles crinkling and fading as her thumbs skittered onto the dark gray synth. 

Fennec chuckled. “Good different, or bad different?” She asked, and Koska grinned. 

“Good,” she said. She ran one palm toward the center of Fennec’s sternum, gently gripping Fennec’s ribs with her other hand to hold her steady. Fennec’s breath caught again as Koska’s fingers brushed her own, still holding up her top; Koska repeated the motion and was rewarded with the same response.

Koska found herself drawn closer to the assassin, intrigued by the contrasts of both her prosthetics, and the seemingly different woman from the earlier battle that sat before her now, all soft edges and gentle sighs. Koska shuffled forward on her knees, situating herself between Fennec’s thighs and slipping her other hand underneath her tunic to rest on Fennec’s lower back.

Fennec hummed in a contented sort of way, closing her legs to hold Koska snugly and placing a hand on her shoulder. Koska shivered slightly as she remembered how easily Fennec had kicked a trooper unconscious just hours ago. For as gentle as her hold was now, there was hidden steel beneath that grip and it set goosebumps alight. 

“There’s some synth back there too; see if you can find it,” Fennec said, seeming to not notice Koska’s reaction to her touch.

“The shot went _through_ your spine?” Koska asked, shocked out of her reverie. She ran her hand across Fennec’s lower back, finding nothing, then made her way higher until she felt the slightly cooler synthskin near the middle of her back.

“Yup. Point blank will do that,” Fennec said, arching her back to Koska’s touch. Koska’s indignant reply caught in her throat as Fennec shifted under her hands, the motion putting the assassin’s chest centimeters away from her nose. Koska froze, afflicted with the familiar brain-fry that comes with being so _close_ to someone _so beautiful--_

“Sorry,” Fennec said, cutting into her non-thoughts and leaning back slightly. “Forgot where your head was.”

Koska raised her eyes to meet Fennec’s and found the older woman looking down at her with the hint of a smirk playing across her lips. “You okay down there?”

Koska blinked, unsure how to answer. She quickly decided action was the best response. 

Fennec’s growing smirk was cut off as Koska practically crashed their lips together, straining upwards on her knees and snaking her hand around the back of Fennec’s neck to pull her closer. 

“ _Mandalorians_ ,” Fennec whispered teasingly, slipping off the bench to straddle Koska’s lap and deepen the kiss, nipping playfully at her lower lip. “Always so quick to get physical.”

“You like it,” Koska breathed, settling back on her heels and tugging Fennec closer. She tangled a hand in Fennec’s hair, biting back a gasp as Fennec did the same to her. Fennec kissed like she fought-- graceful and precise, aggressive when she needed to be, and Koska let her take the lead as she got lost in the sensations of it all. Fennec’s lips were warm against hers, the synthskin on her back cool under her palm, the faint, metallic scent of blaster-fire just barely present under the sharper scent of the cheap soap from the ‘fresher. 

Koska gasped as Fennec’s fingers found her skin under the neck-seam of her undersuit, deftly running her hand down the seam before quickly repeating the motion on the other side and leaning back just enough for Koska to peel the outer layer away. Fennec shucked her own tunic as Koska did so, letting it fall to the deck behind her before bringing her hands back to Koska’s exposed skin.

“So young for so many scars,” Fennec muttered, tracing her finger down an old knife wound on Koska’s bicep. 

“They’re well earned,” Koska preened, leaning forward to mouth at Fennec’s jaw and down her statuesque neck. “I hope you’ll leave a mark or two of your own,” she added, nipping lightly at Fennec’s skin and earning a quiet gasp. 

“If you insist,” Fennec replied, arching into Koska’s ministrations before deftly slipping off her lap and tugging the Mandalorian to her feet. “Your bunk or mine?”

“I don’t care,” Koska said, letting go of Fennec’s hand to tug her undersuit down her legs and stepping out of it. She kicked it aside then pulled Fennec close for another kiss, wrapping the smaller woman up in her arms. “We can go right here for all I care; remember what I said about not being a prude?”

Fennec outright laughed at that. “True,” she said with a grin and stepped back, tugging Koska along with her towards her bunk and nodding at the privacy curtains. “But... I think I’d like to keep you all to myself.”

* * *

Boba was exhausted.

Not from flying the _Slave_ , no. Not much flying to do in hyperspace anyway. But all the _politics_ stinking up his cockpit was enough to tire anyone out.

He slid down the ladder into the passenger compartment, debating if he should use the ‘fresher before flopping into his bunk, but stopped short at the foot of the ladder as he heard a snarl from behind him.

A snarl that sounded like Fennec.

Boba whipped around, snatching his blaster from his holster and turning off the safety, ready to _shoot that little quacta down_ \--

Oh.

Boba let loose a heavy sigh, holstering his blaster as he spied Fennec’s tunic and the little Mandalorian’s undersuit on the deck next to a discarded canter of spotchka. 

With another sigh and a shake of his head, Boba reached up to his helmet and keyed its audio sensors off. He then strode resolutely to his bunk, keeping his head forward and ignoring the slight fluttering of Fennec’s privacy curtain, thanking the stars that he kept his helmet on when he slept.


End file.
